


A Third Winchester

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alexis can see it, Awesome OFC, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Dean Has a Daughter, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, References to Depression, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam is a good Uncle, She's pretty awesome, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-02 15:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Alexis is the daughter of Dean, but that's okay, she's avoiding him. He get's a kick to the nuts getting too close, as well. As Alexis gets used to the Winchester brothers, they have to get used to having a stroppy seventeen-year-old around the Bunker.





	1. An Ugly Couch

The couch was pink. That was what she focused on, the bright pink couch, with blue flowers on it. It was gross, uncomfortable, and her thighs were sticking to it. What was worse was the colour scheme of the room, green walls, a yellow carpet, and light blue curtains. It looked like a regurgitation of a paint factory, she mused, looking to the black table. Black. Like the night. Like her soul. The last thought made her smile slightly, before she remembered that the person in front was talking, that she was supposed to be listening.

‘So, Alexis, do you have anything to say?’ The woman, her so-called “carer”, because her Mom was lying in a hospital bed not moving, asked. Alexis didn’t really know why she’d been called into the Room of Doom, just knew that one of the other kids, one that she didn’t like called Byron, because he was a dick who thought he could get in her pants, had come home with a bruised face. He’d said she did it, and Alexis wasn’t going to bother arguing, who would listen to her?

They claimed she had issues. Schizophrenia, they said. Depression, they said. Mild anxiety in social situations, they said. Alexis sat quietly, listening to the woman rattle on about how she couldn’t just keep silent, how she had to explain why she’d hit him. If Alexis had hit him, she thought, she’d have knocked him out. He deserved it.

Eventually, the interrogation was over, and she was led back to her room. The pills were on the side, the right amount for the day, and Alexis took them dutifully, swallowing, and Mrs Walker left the room. Walking to the toilet, in the room attached to hers, she shoved two fingers down her throat roughly, felt her stomach hurl them up. She had to be quiet, if they knew she wasn’t taking the drugs, she’d be in trouble.

The issue Alexis faced, was what to do. Her Mom had been a Hunter, after her “father” had introduced her to the Supernatural world after saving her life. Things got a little heated, a teenage Rachel fell into bed with a guy that was called Dean, and bam. Baby. Of course, that had been seventeen years ago, when the guy was nineteen. Now, her Mom was in hospital after a hunt gone wrong, and she had no idea who to call for help. She couldn’t keep hunting on her own, not unless she abandoned her Mom, and she still had hope that she would recover.

The Hunt had been Alexis’ fault. She’d seen the deaths, stumbled on the ghost. She’d done her research, worked hard on the case, worked carefully. She didn’t work carefully enough. The ghost had stabbed her mother, stabbed her in the house of the next victims, the mother of eight screaming as she ran away. Alexis had pumped the shotgun, ran to her mother’s side, ignored the ghost that reformed, moving to the other woman.

Alexis had dragged her from the house, called the ambulance, stayed pressed to her mother as they arrived. By the time the Cops had got into the house, the others were dead. Eight children, and the mother. Alexis didn’t care, stayed pressed to her Mom as the woman was carted off. Now, the woman was on life-support, they said it wasn’t promising. Alexis got stuck in a stupid care home, dealing with bratty teenagers that didn’t know half of the things that were out there.

‘Hey, freckles!’ Someone called, Byron appearing, and she wished she could hit him. The only reason she’d left her room was for food, and now the seventeen-year-old douche was coming on to her again. If his hands roamed, she would punch. Or break things, like his chubby little fingers. Snap them, that would teach him not to stick his dick where it wasn’t wanted.

He was right though, she did have freckles. Her hair was dark brown, always tied up in a tight bun behind her head. Long hair got in the way, especially when going hand-to-hand with a freaky thing. Witches were the worst, always after her hair. She fricking hated witches. Anyway, the freckles were pretty annoying, but her eyes were okay. Bright green, emerald, apparently the same colour as her father. The only thing she’d inherited from her mother’s line, according to her Mom, was her size. 5ft5. Alexis didn’t argue, but she figured that she probably got the more feminine side from her Mom, her curves. She wasn’t that curvy, but she wasn’t awfully straight, either.

A lot like her sexuality, she mused. Flirting was fun, getting free drinks despite being underage was better. She enjoyed the attention, most of the time, as long as her meds kept her brain normal. The schizophrenia wasn’t real, she knew that, they just thought she saw people with “black eyes”, when really they were Demons about to gank your ass. The depression, well, that might be a thing. She’d been asked if either parent had a history, snorting when she explained that her Mom didn’t, but she had no idea about her Dad.

Back to Byron. The thing was, he had a parent. One that would come and take him out occasionally, drawing up in an old 1962 Mustang that she adored, dying to get under the bonnet and take a look. Instead, her desire to strip down engines was left for the old Ford pick-up truck in the back of the care-centre. Mrs Walker let her, mostly because Alexis managed to piss her off by speaking in Latin. Learning languages was fun, she’d been told many times by her Mom that she was too clever for her own good.

‘Didn’t get that from me, squid.’ She’d say, ruffle her hair and walk on. Alexis smiled fondly at the memories, especially the nickname. However, it was her stupidity that had got her Mom on a hospital bed, the research she had done wasn’t enough. Alexis had tried everything, different Witch Spells, luck charms, incantations in Hebrew, Latin and Greek as she tried to find something. She’d drawn sigils, hoping to save her, but no luck.

‘Wow, three syllables at once? I’m impressed.’ She said, ignoring him as she moved to the sink. He blocked her path, and she gripped his arm, twisting it behind his back and pushing him into the table. Mrs Walker walked (haha, get it) into the room, and she almost swore.

‘He started it.’ A childish thing, but she’d already been in trouble. Mrs Walker, surprisingly, sent Byron out. Alexis stood, unsure, and watched as the woman sat down. She pushed the other chair out, gesturing to it.

‘Alexianne, would you mind sitting down? I’ve received some news.’ Alexis, with a child-like hope, sat down. Then, the woman’s face dropped, and she realised that it wasn’t good news. It was bad news. As the woman politely explained that her mother had passed, that the life-support wasn’t enough, that her body was fighting against it. Her mother was dead, and she had no living relatives, her step-dad was in jail, thank fuck. The swearing, even in her head, made Alexis flinch. She expected her Mom to pop out from behind the door, swat her over the ear gently, to tell her that such language wasn’t acceptable.

‘What happens now?’ She found her mouth asking, even though it didn’t matter. Now that her Mom was dead, she was getting out of here. Her Mom had a storage locker where she kept all their hunting equipment, she’d get to it and collect the stuff, head out on her own.

‘You’ll be put up for adoption.’ Right. Alexis nodded, asking if she could be excused, and snuck to her room. Keeping the lights out, despite the fact that it was dark outside, she grabbed her stuff. Once the satchel was full, she slipped the straps over her back, clutched the key around her neck, then slid the window open. Under the cover of darkness, the Daughter of two Hunters crept down the drainpipe, into the trees, and out into the big wide world.


	2. Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis meets some unfriendly people

Alexis peeled off her shirt, stuck to her in a mixture of sweat, blood and water. Lake water. Gross. She presumed she’d turned seventeen sometime just after her Mom’s death, her ID told her that when she checked the date, but it wasn’t a big deal. Being seventeen was no better than sixteen. She was in the motel, her fake ID’s telling a different story, she was twenty-one. It was harder to work cases now, and even eight months after her Mom had died, she wasn’t used to it.

Life wasn’t easy. There were some pretty crappy ways of making enough money, ways she tried not to resort to unless necessary. She had figured out what the tattoo on her lower back meant, the one Mom had got when she was born. It was Magic, she knew that, because it expanded as she grew. She had one on her inner wrist, and on her outer ankle. It meant she couldn’t be tracked by Demons, Witches or Angels. She wasn’t sure if she believed in the last one, even though she had an Angel Blade.

Her Mom had managed to locate seven Angel Blades. They’d kept two for themselves, two spare, and melted the last three to make bullets. The bullets could kill Demons, and were amazing. Now, eight months after her Mom’s death, Alexis had changed it. Melting all the bullet down, she had taken her arrows, tipped them in the metal, then had them dried. It was a lot more economical to dip the end of an arrow in it, to make her arrows from them and have them kill. Her bow was a gift from her stepfather, not that she really wanted to think of him too much. Despite that, she occasionally thought about him, thought about his reaction to her mother dying. The thought made her stomach twist, and she checked her bag to try and find her pills.

Empty. That sucked, but she could deal. Fake ID’s fake prescriptions, and she didn’t bother getting too caught up over stealing free drugs. Her argument was that she needed them to save the people of the United States from the monsters they refused to believe in. Anyway, back to the current issue. When the rest of her wet clothes hit the floor, she headed to the motel shower, ignoring the slight cut on her stomach.

She’d fallen in the lake taking out a Kitsune, but it wasn’t all bad. Washing was hard, her body was stiff. Her hair was braided, so at least she didn’t have to worry about it being knotted. She washed thoroughly, shaved, then stepped out. She had news of a new case already, was heading to South Dakota, and needed to get a wriggle on.

Sleep ended badly, as expected, and Alexis was out of the door quickly. The 1968 Shelby Mustang was her Grandfather’s, then her mother’s, now hers. She loved it, despite its temperamental nature. It wasn’t very inconspicuous either, which proved to be a problem when she loaded her stuff in, then turned to see a man standing, eyes flashing black. Alexis reached for her gun, only to be hit over the head, hard, and she hit the gravel. The last she was aware of was the stones digging into her cheeks, then, thankfully, nothing.

**

There were only two. Dickbag 1, as she’d taken to calling him, moved around her tied wrists, her hanging body, a sneer on his face. She kept her face calm, waiting until she’d heard enough information before making her escape. They kept talking about how the King wouldn’t approve, how she was off limits. The King of Hell actually sounded like a pretty nice guy, she mused, watching Dickbag 2 run a hand up her thigh.

‘Dean Winchester’s daughter. What an honour.’ Well, damn. She didn’t even know her dad, but apparently these guys did, and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Alexis held still, watching Dickbag 1 admiring the blood they’d taken. Sure, they’d done it with a needle, which was nice. Less scarring for later.

‘Sorry, daddy isn’t really on speed-dial.’ She snarked, turning her head to look at the door. It wouldn’t be wise to run, she’d have to take care of the two of them first. She considered an exorcism, but they were long, and she’d probably be dead before she finished. Instead, she looked at the sharp blade that was poking out of Dickbag 2’s jacket, a grin flourishing on her features. Boy, Demons were thick. Why not carry regular blades, therefore, if a human did manage to get hold of you, it didn’t matter!

‘She’s got his temper.’ Dickbag 1 remarked, looking amused.

‘Alexianne Layman, daughter of Rachael Layman and Dean Winchester.’ Was that supposed to be scary?

‘Oh no, my full name. Please, I can’t stand this torture.’ She snarked, before she let the grin spread. Then, she chuckled. The two Demons looked to each other, then to her.

‘What’s funny?’ Dickbag 2 asked, and she laughed harder. A backhand snapped her head to the side, and she tasted blood. When she looked back, she knew her eyes were basically glowing with anger, and she gave her best smirk.

‘You have no idea who I am. Sure, you’ve tracked Alexianne, but have you tracked the Hunter?’ The two Demons looked confused, and Alexis did her best smug-look.

‘Look in my boot. Just inside.’ Dickbag 2 bent down, and when his fingers hit a white feather, he paled visibly. Sure, over the past eight months, she needed to work up a repertoire. Her mother was relatively well known throughout the western states, but Alexis worked harder. The feather had started by accident, but when one Witch was seconds from death, she’d admitted to hearing about “The Swan”. Hell, she enjoyed the title. It meant that whenever she needed to, she could use it to encourage loyalty. Or escape from being tied up in a manky rotting house.

‘The Swan.’ Dickbag 2 stated, and she grinned, before her legs came up. Considering her entire weight was on her wrists, they’d probably be sore for weeks after. Her legs wrapped around dickbag 2, snapped his neck and gripping the blade between her feet, kicking it to her outstretched hand. Just as Dickbag 1 charged with his blade, she cut her hands free, slamming into the Demon. Tipping him over her shoulder, she turned and staked him clean through his chest. Then did the same to Dickbag 2, who was trying to heal a broken neck.

She left the feather on top of the bodies, a slight skip in her step at the thought of her ever-building repertoire. If these Demons knew, then maybe news had spread as far as the King of Hell himself. Only when she got back to her Shelby, after walking down the road a little bloody, getting some very odd looks, did she realise that they had told her the name of her father. Dean Winchester. She knew that Hunter, not personally, but had heard of his many dabbles with death. Sam Winchester, his younger brother. Castiel, an Angel. Hoping they hadn’t heard of her, she slipped behind the wheel, the engine purring to life. Well, a mild roar.

Time to find a new case, one far away from any Winchesters.


	3. Fucking Trench Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis meets the Winchesters and Castiel

Two weeks later found her running short of money, heading to the bar to sort out some cash. She slipped in through the doors, heading to the bar and ordered a rum and coke. They didn’t ask for ID, which was nice, considering she didn’t have any. The best way to make money, the quickest, was something she didn’t fancy. The longer, more effort-induced way was by hustling pool.

Unfortunately, she didn’t really get to make a choice. Draining her drink, she saw a man eyeing her up at the end of the bar. Ignoring the nausea that threatened her body, she walked towards the door, then threw a look over her shoulder to the man. His smile was enough to make her stomach twist tighter, following quickly out into the back alley. His breath smelled heavily of alcohol, teeth yellow-stained, clothes dirty. He had to be mid-forties, hungry eyes roaming her form.

‘Nuh uh.’ She scolded when he went to touch, holding her hand out. He got the hint, emptying most of his wallet into her hand. She tucked the money away, starting sloppy kisses at his neck, working to the belt. Sex was off limits, she’d only done that once, and it was when she’d been freezing cold, starving, and in desperate need of a truck ride. It was gross, she knew that, and she’d tried to say no. It didn’t really matter, a homeless kid had no hope.

She counted out the bills, walking down the road with slightly bloody knuckles after he’d tried to force her no-sex policy to break. It was a lot more money than she’d expected, $780, and would do nicely. She needed a new skirt for her suit, and really needed some more makeup if she was going to keep pretending to be older than she was. She had a case, the cash was needed, and she told herself that it was worth it if she could make up for the people she’d let die.

**

Emily Roberts had died in a locked room, with no signs of forced entry, and a bullet hole in her chest. It was a very interesting one, she mused, looking around the house. She’d snuck in, was looking at the high levels of EMF with a grin. Ghosts, ever since her Mom, she needed a little revenge. Leaving the house as she found it, she walked down the sidewalk, admiring a really nice 67’ Impala as she headed to the motel.

Changing into her suit, she headed towards the Grandmother’s house, the only relative of Miss Emily Roberts, a twenty-three-year-old student who had purchased a house and come back to live in during her breaks. Dorothy Roberts peered at her behind glasses, her face tightening slightly in a look of suspicion. That wasn’t good, usually she got further than this, even if she looked young.

‘Two men came around earlier, looking for a young girl working the Case.’ The woman explained, making tea. Alexis froze, wondering who one earth could be looking for her, then coming to the only logical explanation. It had to be the Winchesters. How they’d picked up on her was incredible, maybe it was the car. Even so, she changed the number-plates, stuck to non-CCTV covered roads when possible. Damn it, this case just got more complicated.

‘They’re rivals of mine, if I must say. I unfortunately lost my mother, and they don’t believe I’m fit to be in work.’ That, of course, had the Grandmother fawning all over her. She was incredibly helpful, telling her ever little detail, including how she had a niggling suspicion that the gun was the same one she’d bought for her son, Emily’s father, when he was a child. She then explained that he had died six months ago, a car crash on the way back from visiting Emily at her University. That sounded like motive, and she thanked the woman, who told her that the Police hadn’t found Emily’s diary.

Returning to the house, she snuck around the back. A diary would definitely help, she could do with knowing if Emily had anything to do with her father’s death, and where the gun would be. If he was attached to the object (Dorothy had told her that Emily’s father had been cremated), then she would need to burn the gun, but finding it was going to be difficult if the ghost was using it.

She stalked up to the room, looking through the girl’s possessions. Eventually, she went to the underwear drawer, remembering where she used to hide her diary. The bottom of the drawer was a different shade of paint, and Alexis peeled it back to reveal a compartment beneath it. Skipping over the condoms, sex toys, and a selection of pictures that were slightly revealing, Alexis picked up the plain, blue notebook. Tucking it into her leather jacket, she paused when she heard footsteps downstairs.

Drawing her gun, she took the steps lightly. The footsteps had gone quiet, they’d probably heard her coming, and so she was expecting it when someone went to punch her. She moved faster, ducking and jabbing the man with the side of the gun. A second man came at her, taller than the first, and she took great joy in kneeing him in the groin, dodging the punch with a well-practiced ease and flipping him over her shoulder, using his momentum against him, and landing on top of the first guy, who groaned.

A third man, in a fucking trench-coat, walked towards her. She tucked the gun into her belt, they weren’t holding weapons, and it felt stupid to shoot an unarmed guy. He was strong, really strong, and she was surprised when he pressed two fingers to her head. Angel. The guy was a bloody Angel. He looked thoroughly surprised when he couldn’t work his mojo, and she took the opportunity to break from his hold.

‘Don’t worry, one in ten men suffer from being unable to get it up.’ She ducked the punch, then noted how the first two guys were standing up. The shorter put his hands up in surrender, and she watched as he walked forwards.

‘Easy, we ain’t here to hurt you. Just looking for someone, a Hunter, like you. Alexis.’ They didn’t know it was her. Probably because she looked a good six years older than she was. Oh well, she would take pleasure in their expressions.

‘You’re looking at her. What d’you want?’ She looked between the three, noted the surprise on the guy with green eyes and freckles, and with a sinking sensation, she realised she knew who he was.

‘I’m Dean Winchester. I believe you’ve heard of me.’ She fake-relaxed, and so did Dean, so she took the opportunity to slam her fist into his face, then her foot straight into the crown jewels, then ran across to the room and took a dive out of the first-floor window. She hit the hedge, broke the fall and rolled, sprinting away. No way, not happening. No way in Hell.


	4. D'Artagnan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis and the Winchesters go hunting

She had her stuff spread out across the hotel, packing quickly as she knew they were coming. Clothes shoved in, her few possessions, her weapons. Before she could even try and reach the door, it was opening from the other side, the three of them staring at her. She reached for her gun, Dean reached for his, and they stood their pointing weapons at each other. Sam, presumably, held his hands up.

‘We got off on the wrong start, but we aren’t here to hurt you. We just wanted to, Dean can you put that down? She’s a kid.’ Sam snapped, and Dean grumbled, something about a kick to his balls, but lowered the gun. The Angel, Castiel, walked into the room. He shut the door, and she felt slightly too closed off, three big men in the room was doing bad things for her nerves. Ignoring that, she lowered her own gun, flicking the safety on and sticking it into the waistband of her jeans.

‘Talk.’ She snapped, glaring distrustfully at all three.

‘How are you warded from me? It’s incredible, a witch’s work?’ Castiel inquired, and at the mention of witches, both boys tensed. As did Alexis.

‘No way, I fricking hate witches. Too many bodily fluids.’ Sam burst out laughing, Dean looked cross, and she looked cautiously between them.

‘Dean says the exact same thing.’ Sam explained, even Castiel looked amused, and Alexis relaxed slightly. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. Dean walked straight for the couch, Sam perching on the edge of the desk.

‘It is magic. Warding sigils.’ She didn’t fancy showing them, but Castiel nodded, and she looked at them.

‘Look, I don’t get why you’re here, but there’s a case to solve.’

‘How about we work it together? That way, we get to know you, you get to trust us.’ Sam explained, and she could see he was the logical one. Alexis hesitated, the thought of working with others was slightly disturbing, but she nodded.

‘Fine. But after that, I’m out of here. Without you.’ She added, glaring at the three of them. Sam nodded, Dean looked distrustful, and Castiel just stared blankly. She noted the way that Castiel and Dean would look at each other out of the corner of their eyes, was that a thing? Sam gave a slight smirk when he noticed her staring, a slight shake, and she rolled her eyes. Brilliant, a weird Angel/Hunter combo.

‘So, what’ve you got?’ She asked them, picking at her nails as Sam explained that they knew it was a ghost, but were unsure of who, and they were checking records. She cut him off, apologising as she did so.

‘The ghost is Emily’s dad, I think. Killed in a car accident six months ago, Grandma Dorothy commented on how the gunshot looked familiar to the gun she bought her son.’ She walked to the computer on the desk, her Mom’s, and pulled up the research she collected. Sam peered over her shoulder, slightly too close for comfort. She handed him the diary, the one she’d read briefly and found out that it was Dorothy who had told him not to get his car professionally looked at.

‘She could be the next victim.’ Sam mused, taking a seat on the desk again.

‘I hacked into the library records to see if they had any knowledge on the gun…’

‘Two Sammy’s.’ Dean muttered, Castiel hitting him lightly on the arm. Sam looked at her, urging her to continue.

‘Simple old pistol, 5mm rounds. Nice looking, painful to reload though, and jams can take a while to unblock. Temperamental, Dorothy said it was for sentiment rather than practicality.’ Sam nodded along, Alexis shutting her laptop down and shoving it in her bag. As she did so, the pill bottle came into view, rolling out of the bag. Sam caught it, reading the label, but he didn’t say anything to Dean, just hid it before his brother noticed. Alexis stared at him, wondering why he wouldn’t tell.

‘Right, let’s burn his bones.’ Dean stated, breaking the silence.

‘Can’t, he was cremated. He’s connected to the pistol.’ Alexis said, shoving the rest of her stuff in, before pulling out her Glock, fitted with salt rounds. A small bottle of lighter fluid, tucked safely into her belt. Lighter, as always.

‘I’m going across to Dorothy, the ghost will show up, then I get the gun and burn it.’ She headed to the door when Sam cleared his throat, and she turned back.

‘Together?’ He inquired, and she paused.

‘Fine. But I’m doing the talking.’

**

Dorothy opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw her. It turned to a smile, then turned bitter when she noted the men behind her.

‘They found you.’ She commented, and Alexis turned on the charm.

‘Oh yes, my colleagues understand that I need to do my job.’ Dorothy nodded, inviting the three in, Alexis wondering where the Angel had gone. She moved into the living room, sitting down and waiting for Dorothy to do so. Dean went to speak, but she beat him to the chase.

‘Ms. Roberts, Dorothy, I know this is going to sound slightly absurd, but we have reason to believe that it is the ghost of your son that killed Emily.’ Alexis knew the woman, to some extent, already believed that herself. She could see the shock play across, then the denial.

‘I know it is difficult to believe, especially when proof of the other world seems non-existent, but if it is your son, then we need to ensure your safety.’

Just like that, it worked. The fire was started, Sam pouring salt around the little old lady, Alexis checking the upstairs. When she heard a shout from Dean, she came skidding down. Luckily, the gunshot went wide, and she dropped to her feet. The ghost was solid enough to hit, the Mojo thing not working on her, and she made a dive for the gun. A shotgun pellet made both ghost and gun disappear, and she turned angrily to Dean.

‘I had that!’ She snapped, the swore, kicking Dean sharply so he dropped. The gunshot rang out over his head, skimming across her cheek. Blood dripped, and she rolled over the couch, ignoring another gunshot. Then, she stood, facing the gun. Dean shouted at her to move, and the ghost pulled the trigger, and nothing.

‘You really need to check your rounds, buddy.’ Alexis lunged, gripping the gun and rolling out of the way as Sam and Dean held the ghost off. She reached the fire, chucked it on, poured a little fuel to boost. Salt sprinkled over, she heard the ghost cry out, and relaxed. Another sucker taken down.

**

They walked back to the motel, the Angel having zapped them there. Alexis went to her room, grabbed her stuff and brought it out to her Shelby. The men stood by the Impala she’d seen, and her eyes widened. Oh, she was gorgeous.

‘Wow.’ She muttered, walking across and admiring. For a 67’, she was in good nick, and Dean looked proud as she admired the car. Alexis stopped eventually, jumping slightly as the Angel appeared.

‘Are you coming with us, Alexianne?’ Castiel inquired, and she shuddered at the use of her full name.

‘No way. You’ve got enough with Aramis and Athos back there without me tagging along.’ Castiel evidently did not get the reference, and nor did Dean. Sam, however, laughed.

‘Does that make you D’Artagnan?’

‘I like you.’ She commented, grinning back. ‘And of course, I’ve got the good looks, and the way with women.’ Dean looked baffled, and she couldn’t resist.

‘What, Dean? I’m sure you of all people know what lesbians are.’ His eyes widened comically, Sam trying to hold back his laughter.

‘But… I… Stop ganging up on me.’ He punched Sam in the arm, who rubbed it, still grinning. Dean looked hesitant, but finally spoke.

‘Keep in touch, and call us if you need help, okay?’ Phone numbers exchanged, all three of them stored on her phone, she nodded. As she walked away, she pretended not to hear Dean say,

‘She’s pretty impressive, even for a Winchester.’


	5. Freckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where's her car?

It was three months before she called them. Even then, she let it get pretty late. She sunk down under the desk, chest pained from the bullet in it, breath laboured. Flipping through her contacts, she reached Sam’s number. It dialled twice, Alexis holding the phone close.

‘Alexis?’ Sam’s voice, so loud in the quiet corridors.

‘Hey, I’m in a little trouble.’ She mumbled quietly, before giving him the address. Gunshots from down the corridor made her jump, and Sam said they would be there in ten minutes, that Castiel was flying them in. She hung up, gripping her gun tighter. Her head was spinning, probably from blood loss, and she looked down to the mess of the abandoned hospital. Ironic, dying in a hospital, she mused. Pulling herself up, she stumbled out into the corridor.

The scream of the girl, Alice, that had been in here as joke, rang out. Alexis stumbled down the hallway, hands leaving bloody marks on the wall. When she pulled open the door, Alice was definitely dead, the werewolf leaning over her body. Alexis raised the gun, the hand that had been clamped over the wound, and shot. It went wide, and the wolf was on her, and she was raising the gun and shot through the heart.

The body weight slumped down, trapping her to the floor. When she heard shouting, Sam and Dean and Castiel, she kicked the weight off. Dragging herself up, she weakly called out.

‘Shit, Cas can you heal her?’ Sam was by her side in seconds, skidding down and gripping her body. She went weakly to protest, not wanting to be so close to them, but her head started spinning, and then she really had no choice.

**

When she woke up, she was in a bed. It was an actual room, her bag was propped in the corner, as was her gun. She rolled out of the bed, admiring her clean clothes and the lack of bullet in her. Castiel hadn’t healed the scars, which was nice, she was quite fond of those. Then, horror sunk over her. Shelby. Gripping the gun, she walked out into the corridors.

The two Hunters and the Angel were seated in the library, and Alexis walked in, keeping the gun by her side.

‘Where’s my car.’ She demanded, both of the Hunters staring at her like she was mad.

‘In the Garage, but you should really be…’

‘Take me there.’ She kept a hand on the gun the entire time, not bothering to tuck it back in until she saw her car. A smile spread, and she ran across, tracing the edges of her Shelby.

‘Keys.’ She snapped, and Dean chucked them. She tucked them safely into her bra, ignoring the looks, and looked all over her baby to ensure he wasn’t scratched. Upon finding Shelby good, she relaxed slightly.

‘Thanks.’ If the car was good, then she didn’t need to worry.

‘No problem.’ Dean stated, although he looked curious.

‘It was my Mom’s.’ She said, tracing the edge of the door with affection, remembering riding in it as a kid, demanding ice-cream after a particularly difficult hunt. Dean nodded, like he understood, and Sam just stood. Eventually, she drew her attention away from the car, turned back to them.

‘Where are we?’

‘The Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon, Kansas.’ Cool, she thought, admiring the bikes in the Garage. They led her back through, Dean asking if she wanted pancakes.

‘Any chance of something healthy?’ She asked, and Dean groaned.

‘No. No way. You ain’t like that rabbit-crap. I’m not letting it happen.’ She didn’t want to point out it was because she hadn’t had her meds in a while, and sugar wasn’t great when she was dipping between taking them. She looked to Sam, hoping he knew enough about what they were. His eyes widened.

‘Dean, I’ll make it.’ He brushed past his brother, and she thanked God for Sam understanding. She turned back to look at the library.

‘So, the three of you live here?’ She asked, and Dean nodded.

‘Others, too. Charlie, she’s sought of like me and Sammy’s sister. Then there’s Bobby, he almost died a couple years back, he stays a lot. Finally, Gabriel, a really annoying Archangel.’ She listened, absorbing the new information, staring at the man that was supposed to be her father. He didn’t look thirty-seven, almost thirty-eight. Age had treated him well, she mused, and stared at the freckles. He caught her staring, and raised an eyebrow.

‘Freckles.’ Was all she said, before turning to look back at the library.

‘You got rid of the braids.’ Ah, that she did. Her hair was back in a tight bun, it had taken ages to get un-wavy after the braids. She supposed this was his attempt at finding something they could talk about.

‘Didn’t fancy them. So, tell me about your weapons.’ That was a better conversation, and Dean rattled on for ages, way past Sam getting back with a really nice salad. Alexis sat and listened, settling slightly as she listened to the two of them telling stories. It was pleasant, and she realised that she was getting too homely. They wouldn’t want her to stay, she couldn’t stay here. The thought made her stomach flip, she didn’t have any money left.

‘You’ve been doing really well hunting on your own. How d’you manage?’ She explained the storage locker, explained she mostly just carried on where her Mom left, although she got caught up when she mentioned her deceased mother, moving the conversation onto something safer.

‘And you’re what, seventeen? Eighteen in a couple of months?’ She nodded at Sam, who looked impressed. One month till she turned eighteen.

‘Like Claire.’ They then explained about the other Hunter, but she didn’t point out that Claire had a house, was using Jody’s money. Didn’t point that out, because she sounded like she’d had a pretty hard life.

‘You’ve got a stepdad, right?’ Sam asked, and Alexis panicked. She didn’t know when he was due out of jail, but if they were planning on sending her back to him…

‘You’re not sending me back to him, right?’ She asked quickly, hands instinctively clutching together as she panicked. Both Hunters noticed, and Sam confirmed that she was staying here as long as she wanted. That made her relax, just slightly, and she thanked them, before asking if she could shower. Sam offered to show her where they were, taking her down the corridors.

‘If you want, I can take you out tomorrow to get some more of your pills.’ He said as they reached the door, and she looked away.

‘That would be great, thanks.’

‘You know, he isn’t going to judge. None of us will.’

Yeah. Right.


	6. Tacos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tacos, Bobby and a Hunt. Won't be updating for a couple of days, trip to hospital, but soon!

Alexis was training, sparring with her supposed Uncle. He was the most amusing person to train with, kept her on her toes as they fought. It was pretty challenging, especially when they introduced knives. Sam ducked one of her blows, hard considering the major height difference. Although she could use his weight against him, he was getting used to those tricks. He had been surprised when he’d thrown a punch and she’d caught it, but she was used to having to fight people a lot bigger than her.

They’d got in this fight after Alexis questioned her supposed Uncle about the relationship between Castiel and Dean, to which Sam silently admitted he was waiting for them to stop eye-fucking. Seemingly realising he had sworn, they had then began the sparring session. Alexis didn’t really mind, it was fun.

‘Alright, I quit.’ Sam stated, his floppy hair drenched in sweat. She stopped the swing she was about to lunge with, grinning happily. Sam laughed at her expression, over her week in the Bunker, she’d always been the one to last the longest.

‘Okay, old man.’ She patted one of his biceps, walking towards the shower. She heard him protest, then sprint past her to reach the showers. Some swear words fell out, but she admitted defeat and padded to her room.

She grabbed some clothes, casual ones. Apparently, Dean had invited their sort-of dad figure to come and stay, Bobby, and he was due this afternoon. She wasn’t sure how well they were going to get along, if she was honest. Dean was alright, they could bond over a love of cars and hunting, but they didn’t go any further than that. They acted like friends rather than father and daughter. Sam was slightly easier to get along with, but it was still like an older brother rather than an Uncle. That was fine with her, she wasn’t a kid, she didn’t need to be treated like one. They hadn’t spoke about the anti-depressants and other meds she was on, which she was thankful for.

The shower was finally empty, so she undid her hair and stepped in under the spray. Nicking Sam’s shampoo, she washed her hair, thinking about what she was going to do. Technically, she needed to go shopping. She didn’t have a lot of money by herself, and it wasn’t like she could just ask. Reverting to old methods just seemed wrong, but she really needed some new underwear, and some sanitary products. She’d figure it out later, hopefully they’d be distracted by Bobby, and so wouldn’t mind if she went out.

Dressing in leggings and a large top, she towel-dried her hair, leaving it loose. She slipped on converses, then headed towards the kitchen. She felt like cooking. Nobody met her on the way, so she started chopping up carrots and onions. Even if they did this, even if they let her stay, she had no way of paying them back. Maybe she could get a job, now that she was actually living here. At least, living here for now. She didn’t doubt they’d want her gone eventually, but she could work that out later.

Half-way through making the taco-mix, having asked Sam to purchase some shells earlier, Castiel walked into the room. She smiled, turned the radio down slightly as he settled at the table.

‘Good evening, Alexianne.’ She liked the Angel. He let her pepper him with questions about Heaven, and the Angels. Let her read books, come to him asking for translations. Enochian was complicated, but she was determined to try and learn. Sam could speak it, but she was pretty sure that was from his time in Lucifer’s Cage rather than a determination to learn.

‘Evening, Cas. Where are the others?’ She asked, stirring the mix and preparing other things to go in. He watched, blue eyes tracking her movements around the kitchen.

‘They are with Bobby in the library. They were about to order food, before I explained that I believed you were cooking.’ Alexis nodded, grabbing a tray and putting all the extras on it, before pulling out plates. Tacos distributed for each of the boys, plus Bobby. Grabbing three beers and putting those on as well, she looked to Castiel.

‘Do you want to try a taco?’ Usually, he didn’t eat. He sometimes accepted a beer.

‘What are they?’ She plated him up one, grinning.

‘I’ll talk you through the flavours. C’mon, the boys will be hungry.’ He took his taco, and she carried the tray. She wasn’t overly hungry, had a feeling that a “bad-day” was coming, and really didn’t want it to hit anytime soon. Sam grinned when she walked in, putting the tray down and batting Dean’s hand out of the way as he lunged.

‘Patience.’ She scolded, putting the plates out and looking to the older man at the table.

‘Bobby, this is Alexis. Lex, meet Bobby.’ He smiled at her, which she returned.

‘I’ve heard a lot.’ He stated, and Alexis flashed a signature smirk.

‘All good things, I’d hope.’ She settled down next to Castiel, letting the three continue to talk about a hunt. Turning to the Angel, she gestured to the food.

‘Rather than try to learn all the flavours at once, try and recognise each bit.’ She talked him through it, crunchy shell, the spice of the meat, coolness of the sauce. He did as told, and after three bites, he started to smile. She whooped happily, walking to the kitchen and grabbing two beers, sliding one across to Castiel. They’d never said she couldn’t drink, although she saw Dean give her a look. Ignoring it in favour of drinking beer, she watched Castiel finish his food.

‘Have you eaten?’ Sam asked her, and she nodded.

‘I ate in the kitchen while cooking.’ Castiel didn’t argue against it, although he knew that was a lie. She was thankful for that, the last thing she needed was more issues with this awkward settlement.

‘Alright, we’ve got a Case. For old times sake, fancy coming?’ He asked Bobby, who nodded. Sam grinned, turned to her, and she shrugged.

‘Sure. But I’m taking Shelby.’ Dean went to argue, but Sam stepped in smoothly, said that he’d ride with her to ensure nothing happened. Dean agreed, told them they’d be leaving first thing in the morning. Alexis smiled at Sam, thankful that he had her back, and cleaned up from dinner. Dean was still in the library with Bobby, working the Case, but Sam came in and helped her wash up.

‘Feeling alright?’ He asked, like he could see straight inside her mind. She looked up, realising that there wasn’t actually that big of a gap between them. Sure, it was sixteen years, but that wasn’t a lot between her and an Uncle. He genuinely fit more into the role of a brother, one that wasn’t annoying.

‘Yeah. Looking forward to the Hunt.’ She stated happily, and he nodded. They spent the rest of the time in silence, Alexis wondering if she would have a chance to earn some cash. Grabbing the stuff would be easier when they were out, so it was probably a good idea to do so.


End file.
